


Firecracker Wishes (And The Light Behind Your Eyes)

by IllBeYourDetonator



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Based on a song lyric, Fluff, Frank is so selfless, Gerard has a lot of feelings, Gerard has a solo career and mcr never existed, I took it way too literally, It's really sweet I promise, M/M, Wishes, kind of abstract?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 07:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17300489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllBeYourDetonator/pseuds/IllBeYourDetonator
Summary: A Man, a man who is just a man, and an infinite number of wishes lighting up the sky.And empty eyes, and blurring colors, and a love that spans seven hundred miles.Based on the song lyric "We got fire cracker wishes that we can make" in Action Cat, by Gerard Way.





	Firecracker Wishes (And The Light Behind Your Eyes)

One mile and seven hundred years into the future there was a man. A Man with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, midnight pools, except they weren’t even a color, they couldn’t even be called black. They were just empty. They were nothing, and yet they saw everything.  
Seven hundred miles and seven hundred years into the future there was another man, except he was only a man. He was warm eyes that weren’t quite green, but couldn’t quite be downgraded to brown, either; his hair was a smear of black, he was below average height, he was normal, he was just a man.  
But he wasn’t. (But he was.)  
(But, really, he wasn’t).  
The first man, the Man, stood up from his bed of stars, in his galaxy of shadows, and whispered his firecracker wishes quietly to the sky, though he knew they couldn’t hear him way up there. But the stars murmured to back to him, and he closed his heavy eyes, full of the horror of everything he’d seen.  
Seven hundred miles away, the man who was just a man caught the wishes on the wind and let them flutter in his hands. He knew vaguely who they belonged to, he knew what the truth of them were, and, like always, he wished he could grant them all. But alas, he was just a man.  
…  
The Man was a lion.  
He was a dragon, a beast (a dancer, an artist, a poet) and he was onstage, screaming the words of soul to teenage girls whose sole goal was for him to take off his clothes (and maybe there were others out there, who listened to the words and they were _important_ to them, and the Man knew this, and that’s why he went up onstage every night, for people like them), and somewhere (seven hundred miles away) a man who was just a man smiled at the new wishes that tumbled down to kiss his nose and hair and cheeks, because they were happy.  
Of course, some were burnt at the edges, and they singed his skin, and some were thick and black and stained him, but he didn’t care about those in that instant, he only listened to the happy ones, the ones painted in white and red and gold and silver, and he loved them.  
He smiled at the thought of who they belonged to, because he knew they were somewhere, somehow, happy, and that, for all that it was worth, was _important_.  
…  
The man who was just a man never sent his own wishes. He didn’t know what they would do, if they would even reach the other, if they would take shape at all. He didn’t have wishes often, and when he did he kept them inside, let them stain the inside of his soul with blues and greens and violets. He didn’t want the other to know of their bond, the bridge of his wishes linking them. He knew the other didn’t know of him, and maybe he wanted to keep it that way.  
The Man was so lost, though. His wishes, those bright, firecracker wishes in the dark and in the light were flooding over, and he was so sure at times that they were empty, that he was alone, and that he didn’t deserve all the wishes he made, because they weren’t being heard.  
But then sometimes, when he was at his lowest, when he was so far gone and so far broken he couldn’t breathe behind the wishes in his skies, one of his old wishes would drift back, and they would be slightly blue at the edges, or green in a certain light, or violet in the dark, and he would know that somebody, somewhere was finding them, and caring for them, and he wasn’t alone.  
On the other side of the world, the man who was just a man knew when to send them back. When the wishes overflooded the skies, in blacks and greys and wavering transparency (or when they stopped coming altogether) and he would pick one of his favorites from his never-ending collection of the other’s old wishes, and love them so deeply his own colors bled to them, and then he’d send them back.  
The new wishes would be brighter than before.  
…  
The Man was dying. Dying, dying, and he was very afraid.  
He was alive. His body was fine. Live long, live long, but he wasn’t, he knew this. His mind was telling him to die, and his heart wasn’t speaking to him anymore, and everyone around him didn’t know or care (and no old wishes stained with blue or purple or green came fluttering back) and he was dying.  
Miles away (in another world, almost) the man who was not a man warred with himself. He knew a single wish sent back would not fight the waves of darkness, black and burnt wishes storming in his skies. His friend was dying, and he knew exactly what he needed to do.  
He set aside his doubt, his fear, his hesitation, and created a wish of his own.  
…  
It was the brightest blue he could make it. It was the palest lavender, the slightest hint of aqua, the sweetest wish.  
It floated past the monsters in the sky, the storms of darkness, and the Man was frozen in shock.  
He began to shake, his empty (all-seeing) eyes blown wide, as the foreign wish kissed the tip of his sloped nose.  
_I wish you knew how much you are loved._  
…  
The Man took on the world.  
He was on top of it, it was his. He was everything. He received no more wishes, but he sent thousands of his own, in golds and silvers and reds and whites and then, after that, pinks and lavenders and yellows. He kept the little wish as close to him as he could, buried in his heart, in his mind, in his soul.  
He took on the world, and the world greeted him with open arms.  
And then, years, years, years (and years and years and years) later, a man (below average height, with eyes not quite brown and not quite green and hair a smear of black) smiled up at him from the crowd as he sung the words of his soul. The Man felt something inside him, in his heart, stutter at the sight.  
Later, backstage, the Man pushed past the guards and the gates and the fans and stopped in front of this man, this man with his slight smile and sweet eyes.  
“Hello, Gerard.”  
The tears that fell from his empty eyes filled them in, and he stared back at Frank with eyes of fluttering leaves and muddy rivers and falling forests. He couldn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to.  
Frank sent him one last wish of his own, in a deep violet (midnight blue, emerald green).  
_I wish you the world._  
…  
Many lifetimes later, the Man named Gerard curled against the warmth of Frank’s chest, his pretty nose buried in Frank’s neck. He matched his breathing to the other’s, and loved him with all of his soul.  
“I want to show you how much I love you,” he murmured softly, his mind muddled with his feelings.  
Frank smirked, and kissed the top of Gerard’s head.  
“We got firecracker wishes that we can make.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I wrote this in less than an hour at a Barnes and Noble cafe, total stream of consciousness, but thank you for taking the time to read it! I got the inspiration from something Gerard said (like four years ago) about how the lyric he was most proud of writing off Hesitant Alien was "we got fire cracker wishes that we can make" and that was my favorite song off the album (I'm naming my next cat Action, no one can stop me) so I took it way too literally and wrote this! Again, thank you thank you thank you and let me know if you would want maybe a follow-up?  
> Lots of love,  
> Amethyst


End file.
